One Kidney, Two Ways: for the Love of Hannigram

Well, here we are.

I am so excited for the last episode of Hannibal to see how they end the Red Dragon story, but so utterly bummed because it’s most likely that this is the last we see of this fan-fucking-tastic show.

Oh, Hannigram, how much I will miss thee! However, I am riddled with guilt for shipping you.

 

This was such a dick move! Will Graham gave an epic break-up (for lack of a better term) speech and then Hannibal essentially turned himself into the FBI just to mindfuck Will. Some other Fannibals thought this was flat-out romantic. But dude, Hannigram, you’re the most disturbing, manipulative, passive aggressive, psychologically abusive relationship captured on film since, well, that 50 Shades of Grey bullshit.

This sequence, however, I found quite romantic. In its own fucked up way.

Hannibal: If I saw you every day, forever Will, I would remember this time.

Will: Strange seeing you here in front of me. I’ve been staring at after-images of you in places you haven’t been in years.

Hannibal: To market, to market, to buy a fat pig, Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.

Will: I wanted to understand you, before I laid eyes on you again. I needed it to be clear, what I was seeing.

Hannibal: Where does the difference between the past and the future come from?

Will: Mine? Before you and after you. Yours. It’s all starting to blur.

If I saw you every day, forever, I would remember this time.

OMG. I would just die if someone said that to me.

Of course, with Hannibal and Will, someone may very well die–later in that conversation Will says, We’re conjoined. I’m curious whether either of us can survive separation. 

AAAAAAAHHHHHHH! So many feelings!

Well, I decided to work out my feelings in the kitchen, just as a certain serial killer would.

Don’t fret, that kidney is from a cow.

Having never prepared kidneys, I consulted two of my latest cookbook acquisitions, The Betty Furness Westinghouse Cookbook (1954) and The Boston Cooking-School Cookbook (1926).

I decided to make pan-fried kidney and kidney rolls. Two ways because beef kidneys are pretty damn big, and, it’s totally on-theme to split the kidney in two and make similar but not identical dishes.

I had to bring out the big cleaver to cut this bitch all the way through.

BTW, kidneys stink. My house and I reeked of offal for quite a long time.

Once cut, I soaked the pieces in salted water (that made the kidney smell less, btw).

But I was confused by the cooking directions. It says there, on how to prepare, to cook them quickly in a small amount of water so to not overcook them.

But do I cook them in water and then prepare as I would, or do I forgo that step since I am going to be pan-frying them (and making the kidney rolls)?

Well, I didn’t parboil the kidney slices. I just followed the directions as-is. And as-is was how it should have been!

Check it:

Survey says: beef kidney, if soaked and salted, seemingly can be cooked almost like chicken liver. The kidney rolls were very similar to rumaki, no? And the lemon was KEY with the pan-fried version. My dinner guest, Iris, said it gave it “brightness,” which is the most bullshit, yet most apt word for what it did. BRIGHTNESS!

Iris brought a little tomato/cucumber salad and I had a box of Red Lobster cheddar biscuit whatever and made twice-baked potatoes. Hannibal wouldn’t approve of using a mix one bit.

But behold my plate:

Overall, I’d call this kidney dinner a win.

OK, now I’m off to try to find a way to watch Canadian TV online tonight since they still show Hannibal in its Thursday night time slot. And I don’t think I can wait until Saturday!